


Skullcrusher Mountain

by der_tanzer



Category: Riptide (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-20
Updated: 2010-05-20
Packaged: 2017-10-09 14:56:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/der_tanzer/pseuds/der_tanzer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He knows it isn't easy living here on Skullcrusher Mountain. But if you want to rule the world, that's the place to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Skullcrusher Mountain

**Author's Note:**

> Blatantly stolen from the Jonathan Coulton song of the same name.  
> Warnings for evil!Murray, scarred!Nick, corpses in the dungeon, and brief mentions of homemade pets.  
> 

Doctor Murray Bozinsky sat in his throne-like chair in front of the wall of televisions in his secret lair on Skullcrusher Mountain. Perched on their cushioned stools on either side of him were his assistants/henchmen, Nick "Scarface" Ryder and Cody "Igor" Allen, eagerly awaiting their orders. Scarface held a bottle of Mountain Dew with a bendy straw stuck in it, and Igor had the remote that controlled the twelve TVs. But all of them were showing the same program: the nightly news from King Harbor, the local fishing village at the bottom of the mountain. It was outside the range of his power; even his wolves didn't go down there, but occasionally Scarface or Igor would slip into town and bring him a pretty. A nice young man or woman, or just some new pets to experiment with. But as he watched the news tonight, he began to set his sights on someone special.

"Who is that?" he asked, pointing at the man whose face filled all twelve screens.

"That's the cop who gives us so much trouble when we go into town," Scarface said, holding up the bottle so the doctor could sip from the straw. "His name is Ted Quinlan."

"I like him," Murray said flatly. "Bring him to me."

"Yes, Master," Scarface said obediently. "But it won't be easy. It will take time to lure him within reach."

"I'll leave that to your discretion. You've always been able to get me pretty things. I know you'll be able to do it again. And we'll be so happy…I'll make him nice presents, and he'll see that he belongs here."

"Yes, Master, of course," Scarface said, a smile transforming his disturbing features. He had been mangled and on the verge of death when Murray found him on the mountain five years ago, and though the doctor was clearly as crazy as a shithouse rat, Scarface owed him everything. Igor had been given to him as a gift by the doctor on the first anniversary of Scarface swearing his allegiance, and it was fear of being separated from each other as much as loyalty to their master that kept them there.

***

"How will we get the cop?" Cody whispered, snuggled up against Nick in their big bed in the dungeon room they shared.

"We'll go down in the morning and spy on him a while, find out where he lives and what kind of schedule he keeps. It'll be easy. All we have to do is stuff him in the car and get above the timberline. Once we're inside the wolves' range, no one will be able to come after him."

"Do you think they'll ever wise up down there? I mean, we've been snatching people for years, stealing animals for his monsters, and no one's ever even tried to bring in a chopper or drop a bomb. What's wrong with them?"

"Bunch of sheep," Nick shrugged. "Hey, we could leave, too, but we don't. What's that say about us?"

"Says we're smart, baby. He's got the Doomsday Squad gearing up to annihilate the entire West Coast and you want to leave? We don't get a spot on the sub, we're finished."

"Yeah, but what's the good of surviving nuclear winter if all that's left is us and—him? I mean, I like the Master, but he's fricking nuts."

"Maybe the cop will help," Cody said hopefully. "Girls scare too easy, and those other boys weren't very tough. That guy looks like he's been around the block a few times. It'd take more than a cat/dog hybrid or the threat of poisoning the town water supply to make him throw himself to the wolves."

"Yeah, he's tough. So we'll drag him up here and he'll make the Master happy. Then maybe you and I will have more time to ourselves."

"One can only hope." Cody turned over and pulled Nick down into his arms. "Kiss me, you gorgeous, hideous man."

"You know," Nick said, nibbling gently at his throat, "maybe if Master has someone warm and sweet to sleep with, he'll change his mind about igniting the atmosphere."

"Maybe. In the meantime, let's fuck like there's no tomorrow."

Nick was perfectly willing. On Skullcrusher Mountain, the possibility of no tomorrow was ever a clear and present danger.

***

"What the hell is going on here, you freak?" was how the lieutenant greeted his host. Murray sat in his throne-like chair and looked him up and down appraisingly.

"You live here now, my darling. I am Dr. Murray Bozinsky. You've met my assistants, Igor and Scarface. I realize their appearance is somewhat—disturbing, and you must have been frightened by their invitation, but I assure you they're quite harmless. Absolute sweethearts, in fact. They're here to serve, so anything you need, feel free to ask."

"How about a ride back to town? I ain't stayin' in this freak show, henchmen or no. Now you tell these guys to take me home, or just unlock the door and I'll find my own way."

"Yes, well, why don't you join me for lunch, first? My chef has made a lovely buffet of soups and sandwiches, and we make our own beer as well. Actually, it's more of an ale, very dark and heady. Come, join me." He took Quinlan's hand, squeezing with surprising strength, and led him into the warm, fire-lit dining hall.

"Your chef a prisoner, too?"

"No one's a prisoner here, Lieutenant. May I call you Ted?"

"No, you may-fucking-not. I said I want out of here."

"Let's just eat first. What would you like? Ham? Turkey? Chicken? Beef? I believe this one is lamb."

"I'm not hungry, you freak. What am I even doing here? Don't you know the cops are gonna come up here and tear your little castle apart looking for me?"

"Yes, well, that will be rather difficult. No one knows where you are, and even if they did, no one's ever gotten on or off the mountain without my consent."

"You're shittin' me."

"I shit you not. This mountain is covered with wolves. Hear them howling? My hungry children; they do as I say and you, my pretty, pretty man, would be a lovely meal. Whether you're a meal for them or me is up to you."

"What are you, a cannibal?" he snarled, looking worried for the first time.

"No," Murray smiled, licking his lips. "Come and eat. Would you like wine, or maybe Scotch?"

"I ain't drinking with you, nerd-boy."

"Are you sure? You're going to be here a long time, Ted. Excuse me, _Lieutenant_. We may as well get to know each other."

"I told you, I ain't stayin', food or no."

"Then you're food for wolves, Lieutenant. This shouldn't be a difficult choice. Now, would you like chicken or ham?"

"Beef," he said dully. "And gimme some of that ale."

***

After lunch, Scarface took the lieutenant to the master's room to show him where he'd be sleeping.

"You mean I don't even get my own bed? What the hell kind of place is this?"

"The master wants a companion."

"Yeah? How many _companions_ has this freak show been through?"

"I don't keep count. You could check the dungeon and see what's left, but the wolves got quite a few."

"Jesus. So this is it? I hang out here until he's tired of me?"

"He won't get tired if you cooperate. He just needs a friend."

"Maybe he should join a quilting circle or something."

"Well, he is very creative. He made a nice half-pony/half-monkey monster for you as a welcome gift. Now, if you'll just put on this robe, you can have a little nap and see the master again this afternoon."

"Robe? What is this, some kinda day spa?

"It's very comfortable. All of our guests wear them."

"Yeah, right until the wolves eat 'em, I bet."

"Get some rest, sir. I'll wake you in time to dress for dinner." Scarface laid the silk robe on the foot of the bed and bowed out, closing the door behind him. Quinlan heard it lock from the other side and was not surprised. The bars on the high windows were a big clue. But the robe was black and he did like silk. He'd been working twenty-four hours straight when they grabbed him, and not only was he tired, he also wanted to change his clothes. He sighed in resignation and peeled off his polo shirt and jeans.

The robe wasn't what he expected. It didn't open up the front; rather it went on over his head and belted around his waist, making him look like a hedonistic monk. But it did feel good. He tied the belt loosely and crawled into bed. The sheets were cool under heavy blankets, sweet-scented and musky, not at all what he'd have expected in the chamber of a madman in a mountain castle. But that didn't mean he was staying. His life at home might be all bitterness and despair but that didn't mean he was throwing in with a guy who'd had him kidnapped and was apparently planning on making him his sex slave. Not even with the silk and soft bedding and the fact that the madman in question was a little bit cute. Quinlan snuggled into the pillows and fell asleep, thinking about wolf children and homemade pets.

***

Igor came for him at eight, bringing him silk pants and shirt and transforming him from a hedonistic monk to Hef on his way to the Grotto. After a decent nap, and with the promise of hot food ahead of him, he was thinking there might be something to this. At least it would be bearable while he plotted his escape. Even if he had to share the sweetly scented bed with the madman tonight, that might not be too bad. He was bigger than the freak, anyway, if it came to that.

This meal was fancier than the last and they ate alone with only the two henchmen to serve and watch the door. Whether they were keeping him in or someone else out, Quinlan never knew, but the food was excellent and he ate with a will.

"How do you like to spend your evenings?" the doctor asked when they were done. "We have television, computers, card games, almost anything you could want."

"I want to talk," he said simply. "You can start by telling me what this is all about. What am I doing here, and when am I going home?"

"You're not leaving, Lieutenant. You're here to be my companion. I've had many over the years, but none have ever worked out. Scarface, he used to bring the prettiest girls from town. But they weren't strong. They were always having hysterics and hanging themselves, or trying to escape so that the wolves got them. The young men were better, but they're so rash. Always trying to overthrow me or wanting to run the Doomsday Squad or something. No one's content just to be with me, you know? No one cares if I'm lonely."

"Well, I sure as hell don't. Why'd you pick me, anyway?"

"I saw you on TV. You're so brave and intelligent, solving all those crimes and striking fear into the hearts of the residents of King Harbor. Perhaps you could be more than a companion one day. Perhaps we could rule together, as those younger men wanted. You're older and wiser; I believe you'll know when it's right to be afraid."

"I ain't afraid of you, freak show. You think a couple henchmen and some overgrown dogs are gonna make me stay anywhere I don't wanna?"

"Honestly, Lieutenant, must you call me names? I've given you the best of everything my humble castle has to offer. I've been patient, I've been gracious—would it kill you to be civil?"

Quinlan started to say something sharp in return and suddenly the night air was torn by the howling of wolves.

"Come, have another drink and let's talk about this a little more."

"I been a cop for a long time and you're the craziest motherfucker I've ever run across."

"Yes, even my henchmen say so. I'm not surprised that you agree. But I'm not going to hurt you, Lieutenant. If you could only hear the voices in my head, you would understand that I have no desire to kill you."

"Fuck me," he muttered, draining his glass of ale.

"Oh, maybe you hear them after all," Murray smiled happily. "Would you like to go to bed?"

"F—shit. I'm really supposed to sleep with you?"

"My chamber is the best, and it's only the best for our guests here on Skullcrusher Mountain. Unless," he added, his thin face falling into set lines of sadness, "you really don't like me. In that case, I may as well send you to the dungeon right now."

"Dungeon, huh? That doesn't sound too good."

"It isn't. My favorites have a rather nice chamber for themselves, but you wouldn't be with them. There's a cell for companions who hurt my feelings, and it isn't pretty."

"Yeah? Is there anyone else down there now?"

"Probably," he shrugged. "We haven't cleaned it out in years. But we don't feed them, so there won't be any great conversationalists or co-conspirators for your escape."

"Huh. Well, you're right, Doctor. Your chamber is pretty nice."

"Isn't it? I sent to Europe for the velvet and silk. You can't get real luxury around here anymore."

"Whole country's gone to hell," he agreed and Murray nodded seriously. This still seemed like a bad idea, eating and sleeping with a frigging loon, but the people in the dungeon who were no longer conversationalists decided him. He was going to have to try hard not to hurt the mad scientist's feelings while he figured out what to do.

***

"So, how'd you end up here?" Quinlan asked as they got into bed. "I mean, you're a smart guy. Not bad looking. Why'd you go the reclusive madman route?"

"I don't know. I never fit in very well in school. Even in college, where you'd think there'd be a place for everyone. After graduation, I was having a terrible time finding a job where I could use my monster-making, doomsday skills. Even the Army wasn't quite up to it. Then my parents died and left me this place, so here I am. I found Scarface in the woods, injured in some kind of hiking accident, and brought his friend up to live with him once he'd proven his loyalty. I think they love me, in their way."

"Where'd the rest of your henchmen come from?"

"Newspaper ads. In this economy, it's a buyer's market."

"So all you were missing was—"

"You. A personal friend for me. Someone to sleep with and eat with, and maybe rule the world with one day. Wait until you see my golden submarine. We'll be safely hidden beneath the waves while the Doomsday Squad annihilates the West Coast and everyone will tremble in terror before us. You're a cop, you understand power."

"Yeah, I understand. When's this annihilation scheduled to come off?"

"I don't know. When I get angry enough, I suppose. But you like me, don't you? You want to stay here, right? You won't make me send you to the dungeon?"

"No, I like you," Quinlan said slowly. There was a lot of power here and maybe he wanted to be a part of it after all. Maybe this madman was heading the winning team. "Your assistant, Scarface, he said something about a pony/monkey monster. What's that?"

"An experiment. Everyone likes ponies and monkeys, so I thought they'd go well together. Why? Don't you like monsters?"

"Hey, who doesn't?"

"That's what I thought. It didn't come out quite like I'd hoped, though. I might've used too many monkeys. Tell you what. Tomorrow we'll go out and have a look at it, and if you don't like it, I'll make you something else."

"Sure, Doctor, if that's what you want."

"Please, call me Murray. I know it isn't easy living here on Skullcrusher Mountain, but I think you and I are going to be very happy."

"You know, I think so, too. Just don't feel like you need to ruin anymore ponies making gifts for me."

"It's a deal, Lieutenant."

"Wait, if we're gonna blow up the world together, you should call me Ted."


End file.
